


Krusty Fics

by Anonymous



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Gay Sex, Gen, Omorashi, Pee, Scat, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Urination, poop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A collection of relatively short SpongeBob SquarePants fanfics I’ve written. Most of these “Krusty” stories will be sexually explicit and will be littered with both odd fetishes and common kinks. There will be a lot of gay shipping going on as well. This is mostly self-indulgent and I’m WAY too embarrassed to post this under my regular account. There’s not enough raunchy SpongeBob content out there, so if you came here looking for an exotic spongy treat, I’m glad you found what you were searching for. — So enjoy. Maybe someone out there can get their rocks off to this krusty crap.If you didn’t know, scat means poop, feces, shit... You’ve been warned.
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/Patrick Star, SpongeBob SquarePants/Squidward Tentacles
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18
Collections: Anonymous





	1. All Out (scat/pee)

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely NOT my best fanfic. I wrote this over a year ago for myself back before I even knew the term “self-indulgent fanfic”. This has scat, urine, and... overall it’s just really lewd.

“Mister Squidward,” Mr. Krabs approached his employee who was headed for the restroom. “I have a task fer ya. Need it done this instant.”

The octopus sighed. “What could be this important that it takes time away from my only break?” He let his arm rest at his hips as he rolled his eyes. Clearly he was in no mood for Krabs’ irrational commands.

“Come to the kitchen. I’ll be talkin’ to both you and SpongeBob about the minimal changes I’ll be making around here.”

“ _Minimal?!_ ” Squidward vociferated after learning about the new jobs he and SpongeBob had to do along with their usual jobs. “So you’re telling me you want us to shit and piss into the food?! Are you _mad?!_ ”

“Not at all. Just cheap,” Mr. Krabs’ exclaimed, guffawing all the while. “Ya see, we can use yer, um, feces to make patties, and SpongeBob’s urine as lemonade. Those mindless fish will eat anything if we just add a bit of sugar and spice. The reason I’m doing this is because we’re low on ingredients and I ain’t spending no more money on ‘em this month.”

SpongeBob rubbed what should be his neck in thought. “So by using our excrements you can make a quick buck?”

“Precisely.”

“Fine by me,” decided SpongeBob who was eager to do any job his greedy boss gave him. Quickly he unzippered his square pants over an empty glass in the back of the kitchen.

Seeing this, Squidward gagged, coughing loudly afterwards. “Krabs, this is illegal!”

“And so is all the other stuff I’ve been doing, but I ain’t been caught yet. So get to shittin’!” And with that, the demanding crab left.

Squidward held his stomach, groaning with pain and conflict. He needed to relieve what he assumed to be diarrhea. That morning he had hastened to finish his breakfast, lest he be late to work and have his already small salary made smaller. Now he was debating whether he should go along with his boss’ demands or hold it in all day against his boss’ sick will.

He decided it was too urgent to avoid as he sat himself down on a rusty, old bucket. The stare from his coworker was not enough to deter. He strained, his face turning red as the bucket filled with unspeakably repulsive ordure.

SpongeBob held his nose tightly as he flipped the last of the available Krabby Patties and let out a little giggle and joke that hadn’t meant to sound as scornful as it did. “Squidward, could you please ‘go’ somewhere else?”

“No!” Squidward screamed, startling the sponge. “I didn’t tell you to piss somewhere else did I? No, I didn’t! So leave me the heck alone. You think I _wanna_ be doing this?”

“Well, I-”

“Shut the barnacles up!”

A few minutes later, Mr. Krabs came in to check on his employees. “So, boys, how’s the job going?” He closed the kitchen door behind him, walking over to study Squidward’s face. “Mister Squidward, ya actually managed to take a dump fer me. I’m surprised,” he admitted, flabbergasted.

The octopus thought he had never felt more degraded in the entire time he’d worked at the Krusty Krab. He got up from the bucket which was now half full (or half empty, but that’s a debate for another time). “C-can I at least have some toilet paper, for my dignity’s sake?” he begged.

“I’ve got it!” called the yellow fellow in a sing-song voice. Within three seconds the sponge was back with a few of the much needed toiletries. “Here ya go, Squid. Some toilet paper, a couple wipes, and a towel if things get messy.” He winked, then returned to flipping the browning burgers.

“Need a little help, Mister Squidward?” Krabs chuckled as he watched him struggle to wipe his own ass. “I mean, with six tentacles one’d think ya’d be fine but apparently not.”

Squidward groaned over the humiliation of the moment. “I’m _fine_ , Eugene.” He reached behind his backside, towelette in hand. “You think I have anyone to wipe my ass back at my house? I can do it myself.”

“I always assumed SpongeBob did it for ya’,” Krabs snickered.

“That’s it!” Squidward cried, throwing the toiletries into the bucket of doo. “I’m done, I quit. I can’t handle the sheer idiocy of this all.”

The distressed octopus bolted out of the kitchen, throwing his hat on the ground as he did so. He nearly made it to the exit when he bumped into a certain pink sea star who was wearing a hat identical to the one Squidward had just thrown.

“Patrick?” Squidward exclaimed. “What did Krabs hire _you_ do to?”

Patrick looked the octopus in the eyes, smiling goofily before replying, “Make the milkshakes.”


	2. Oh, Crap! (scat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SpongeBob swallows the formula.

Early one Monday morning, Plankton carried out yet another one of his convoluted schemes to steal the beloved Krabby Patty Secret Formula. And again, he failed. The Krusty Krab had gone on lockdown, and the relentless thief was forced to accept defeat when SpongeBob caught and swallowed the formula. Mr. Krabs gave the boy a small bottle of brand name laxatives, MiraLAX, and sent him on his way. This wasn't the first time that the sacred formula and its contents ended up in SpongeBob's, well, _stomach_ contents. Hopefully, SpongeBob thought, it would be the last.

A few hours after his first pill and still no bowel movement. He had a few digesting Krabby Patties that needed to exit his body first before he could even get _close_ to retrieving the formula. Given that he loved Krabby Patties, it should come as no surprise that he'd had three of them. Due to his intestines trying to break down a glass bottle (which it was unable to do), his digestive system was all messed up, causing his stomach to churn. He had begun to pass gas at an unusual rate.

"SpongeBob, hurry up with those orders!"

"Sorry, Squidward! I'm trying, I really" —he burped— "am." His hands were everywhere. The silver of his spatula was whooshing through the air at record speed. Lettuce and tomatoes were flying, cheese and pickles met bun. SpongeBob was just about to add the condiments when— "Ah, shrimp!" He clutched his stomach, moaning.

Squidward whipped his head around upon hearing SpongeBob "curse", an uncommon occurrence in the workplace. He raised an eyebrow at the sight. The fry cook was hissing, writhing in a kneeling position on the floor, with one hand attending to the patties on the grill. "Uh, Sponge?"

"Dear Neptune, it hurts."

"What the heck's wrong with you?"

A sharp pain was felt in his stomach, and couple of loud toots escaped him which produced bubbles in the surrounding water.

" _Seriously_ , SpongeBob?"

"...Excuse me. Y'know, I can't really help it."

"Look, just get these next few orders out, and—"

"MR. KRABS!"

The musical shuffling of little crab legs could be heard, and seconds later Mr. Krabs was in the kitchen, eying the boy with concern. "The formul _er_ givin' ya trouble, boy?"

SpongeBob nodded weakly. "I... I need to go to the bathroom." He was visibly bloated, and if one listened closely, they'd be able to hear his tiny tummy gurgle.

"Aye, make it quick. Mr. Squidward, man the grill."

At this, Squidward grimaced. "I can't catch a break in this neptunedamn establishment." He pulled at his lower eyelids dramatically.

"Oh, quit yer bitchin'! The boy just needs to take a quick dump, is all."

"But, Mr. _Kraaabs_ —"

"Shut yer trap." He turned to the fry cook. "You can go, lad."

SpongeBob got up clumsily from where he knelt and bolted to the bathroom, a burning fart escaping him as he went. As to not offend anyone with his potentially foul excrements, and, of course, to give himself some extra level of privacy, he chose to occupy the farthest stall from the door.

Having been stuck in this godawful situation before, he knew of some methods to relieve himself and his pain. Thankfully, his backside wasn't a mess yet, because what he planned to do required him to fool with his nether regions. Sandy had told him one day, when he was suffering from constipation, that he could possibly encourage a bowel movement if he were to rub his perineum with his fingers. "...Then y'all should simply massage that area between your anus and where the reproductive organs on a normal animal would be," she'd said, chuckling. "Y'all ain't normal, SpongeBob."

SpongeBob did a sort of squat inside the stall, a few inches in front of the toilet. Bending down partially, he reached his index and middle finger underneath of him until his hand met his nethers. He placed his fingers on his perineum and began to gently push the area, rubbing in tiny, circular motions. He could feel his anus pucker as he rubbed harder. A few seconds later, he felt a small shift behind the bridge of skin. Maybe now something would come out.

He seated himself upon the toilet and squeezed. His abdomen caved inwards just barely, as he was bloated. He gritted his teeth. _Nothing._ Nothing was coming out. He could feel the blockage within, yet it just wouldn't budge. He squeezed harder. "Gah!" he exclaimed. His side began to cramp up due to the strain. He bit his lip, a tear forming in his eye. He'd have to take more laxatives, but for now, it was back to the kitchen.

_~2 hours later..._

"SpongeBob! _SpongeBob!_ I need a double patty with extra cheese."

Squidward stuck his head through the window of the kitchen. "SpongeBob!" he repeated, looking around. The grill was on, but no patties. That was odd. And he hadn't heard any annoying blurbs from SpongeBob in over five minutes. The sponge _had_ been whining a bit, but Squidward thought little of it. "...Huh?" Looking closer, he realized that there were patties on the grill. Or, rather, had been. Their dying sizzles were reminiscent of the faint whimpering that could be heard coming from the restroom.

"Where's my patty, man?" said one customer who was seated at a table with his arms crossed, an exaggerated frown plastered on his face.

"You'll get it when you get it," Squidward snapped. "Don't lose your shrimp just yet, buddy. As you can see, the fry cook's missing." He pointed to the kitchen, exasperated. There were a few fresh burgers on the counter, he realized, so he decided that the customers would have to makedo with them until he found SpongeBob.

Ensuring that he had no further orders to take for at least a few minutes, he stepped out of the cashier boat, his brow creased. What _now?_ What would be the hold up _this_ time? Out of ketchup? SpongeBob didn't add enough _love_ to a patty, thus why he presumably was upset? Oo, perhaps they were going home early? _Now that would be nice,_ Squidward mused. He approached the male restroom and opened the door, when he was immediately hit with a pungent odor.

"Neptune, what is that SMELL?" His tentacles instinctively flew up to grasp his unfortunately large nose. "Oh, what sick fu... Who took a fu- a _disgusting_ crap in here?!" He reluctantly sniffed around to determine the stall that was the source of the smell. "SpongeBob better be in here freshening up the place or something. 'Cause so help me Neptune, if _I_ have to clean this mess, there's gonna be a problem."

Squidward stopped at the farthest stall on his right. His eyes widened when he realized that the source of the smell was still in the bathroom, still spewing their body's putrid waste mercilessly into the toilet bowl. Whoever it was, well... the inconsiderate jerk —or perhaps poor sap— had most definitely heard Squidward's harsh words of disgust and disapproval. And Squidward knew of only one guy who would seldom defend himself and/or his dignity... _SpongeBob._

"SpongeBob! Is that you?"

Said sponge was shaking all over, nervous and ashamed. He had taken more laxatives than he should've when his stomach started to cramp a couple hours ago. _"Remember, lad,"_ Mr. Krabs had said, "these here laxatives will help move the formuler through yer digesterve system. Take too many, and yer crap will come out a mess." And his boss wasn't wrong. 'Cause now SpongeBob was seated over a toilet, clutching his stomach, and red with embarrassment.

"...Y-yeah. It's me."

Squidward sighed. He'd come here to ridicule the sponge, but the little fella sounded like he was experiencing some real pain. Pain, and humiliation. Finally it hit him that SpongeBob had been dealing with some issues all day, and that's why he wasn't at the grill. Duh. But, even if Squidward may have —just a little— wanted to make sure SpongeBob was alright, he couldn't bring himself to do it. The sounds of straining and liquid shit tainted the smelly air with a heavy cloud of awkwardness.

Squidward chose the best words he could find. "Krabby Patties go in and come out the same, don't they?" Okay, so maybe they weren't the _best_ words, because seconds later, SpongeBob was in tears.

Behind the stall door, the boy's red face scrunched up in despair. He wanted to get up from the toilet, avoid any trouble with his boss, and get back to doing what he loved, but it would be _so_ uncomfortable. His stomach was churning its contents like butter, and every few seconds since he'd sat down on the toilet, runny poop would wait eagerly behind his anus, ready to slide out. Simply getting up from the toilet was inconvenient. He'd have to wipe, and that alone would prove to be a challenging and very messy endeavor.

"SpongeBob, I'm telling Mr. Krabs. This is pathetic." He fanned the air around him. " _Neptune,_ it reeks in here."

"Squid, wait!" SpongeBob said weakly, holding his face in shame. "I'm so embarrassed." He groaned as more waste left his body.

Squidward crinkled his face in disgust. "SpongeBob, listen. Mr. Krabs will find out one way or another, so it's best that I just tell him. You're his favorite, and he needs you on site making patties. If it's what it takes to get you back out there - and there's no spending involved, heh - he'll _comfort_ you."

_Yeah, right._

"Wipe yer ass, wash yer hands, and take a bucket with ye!" hollered a very _non_ -comforting Mr. Krabs. He threw open the stall to face SpongeBob, who's usually pink-tainted cheeks were a bright, rosy red.

SpongeBob frowned, utterly mortified. He made efforts to cover himself with his hands. "But my stomach's upset, Mr. K," he stuttered. "My intestines are all screwed up thanks to that darn bottle."

"The only stomachs I'm worried about right now are the customers’, boy, and ye should be to. Now do as I said and get back to work." The crab scurried back to his office, evidently unconcerned.

SpongeBob did as he was told. He wiped, albeit reluctantly, thoroughly wet, lathered, and scrubbed his hands, and picked up a bucket that was tucked underneath one of the sinks. He brought the bucket with him to the kitchen, where he sat it down in front of the grill.

SpongeBob eyed the tin thing. Was he seriously going to sit his ass down on this rusty metal object and expel his waste? _I guess I don't really have a choice,_ he thought. He faced the grill, slowly lowered his pants and briefs, and sat down. His flesh met the cold rim of the bucket and he squealed. _Now it's back to business._ He raised his spatula, and, from his place on the bucket, reached up to tend to the Krabby Patties on the grill.

Squidward cringed. He could hear the straining and groaning very clearly from where he sat taking orders, and it was beginning to gross him out. The sooner that formula came out the _better._ This whole bucket thing was completely unsanitary. What did Krabs think he was doing, making SpongeBob handle himself like this? Couldn't the poor sap get the day off? Nah, that would mean Squidward would have to man two posts. Well, couldn't he just, uh... p _-pull_ the formula out? Was that even possible?

SpongeBob bit his lip in discomfort. His current situation was making it very difficult to do his job. "Order up!" He slid Squidward a few patties before turning the grill down low and moving the bucket towards the back of the kitchen. He needed to expel a big one, and he needed to _now._ He couldn't take much more of this shitty situation.

He observed through the window for a moment. His coworker was busy with an order. Perfect! Hastily, he bent over, and with shaky fingers spread his cheeks above the bucket. He squeezed hard, his bad case of diarrhea causing an unpleasant mess. Chunks sprayed out from his hole, and while most went into the bucket, much of the brownish liquid splashed against the wooden floor.

Being the relatively hygienic guy he was, and in order to ensure the cleanliness of his clothing, SpongeBob ditched the rest of his outfit in an instant and resumed his process of defecating now completely in the nude. “Fishpaste,” he groaned, struggling to aim. He inched his backside closer to the bucket, a third squirt of liquid releasing. He felt so dirty, both physically _and_ emotionally. Shitting in his work station in his _birthday suit?_ Pathetic.

Squidward turned his head to gaze at the sight in the kitchen. He expected to wretch or perhaps shriek in horror at his findings, but instead found his eyes locked on SpongeBob's semi-public risqué display. He stared intently at the sponge's ass, which is all he could really see, anyway. His little butthole opened and closed profusely, as if it were desperately trying to rid his body of its own organs. Squidward wouldn't have been surprised if his intestines slid out any minute now, revolting as the thought was.

A few more seconds of straining and the sponge collapsed onto the floor in a somewhat dramatic fashion to catch his breath. He wanted the formula out, and he wanted it out _now._ It was close, he knew that for sure. He could feel the hard bottle within his rectum.

Perhaps Squidward could help. After all, he was one of the "nicest" people SpongeBob knew. Of course, people who lived in reality recognized that as far from the truth. That didn't mean Squidward wished the poor chap to suffer, however, and if it meant peace, quiet, and fresh air, it might be the _slightest_ bit possible that Squidward would, maybe, potentially, _kind of_ lend a hand. Or tentacle. Or whatever.

It was as if Squidward had been reading his mind. The octopus opened the kitchen door, nose crinkled in disgust. He stepped in, approaching the bent over sponge, one eyebrow raised. "SpongeBob, what the hell is going on here?" he asked flatly.

Despite Squidward being a sort of answer to prayer, his presence was still a bit unexpected, and SpongeBob's face heated up to a bright shade of red. He gasped and turned around, attempting to cover himself with his small hands. "Uh, I was just handling business, is all! Nothing to see here. Thanks." Untruthfulness was written all over his wide smile.

"Look, SpongeBob. I could literally see you from where I was out there. You're lying."

SpongeBob hung his head, cringing at how exposed he left himself to the public eye. Well, the eyes of Squidward, that is. He bit his lip. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Oh, no, don't be!" He through up his tentacles sarcastically. "I quite enjoyed seeing your cute little ass take a crap in the same place you cook the food!"

"S-Squidward—"

"Don't _Squidward_ me. Just, ju— Y'know what? Bend over."

"What?"

"I said, bend over!"

SpongeBob didn't think he could turn any redder, but he was wrong. His face was hot to the touch. His cheeks were so full of blood, he though they might burst! Squidward wanted him to _what?_ Squidward, the one who he adored, his best friend, the one he caught himself unintentionally having salacious thoughts about at night, _that_ guy wanted him to expose himself to him? Well, he didn't want to say he liked the idea, per se, but he definitely wouldn't mind it. Oh man, this was going to be good!

Squidward watched as SpongeBob stood up, turned around and touched his toes, his back perfectly arched. He took his tentacles and, not before questioning his life choices, spread the little, round cheeks apart to get to his target. His eyes went wide. Well no wonder the little sponge couldn't get the formula out! His hole wasn't stretched enough to accommodate such a size or shape, if it had even been stretched at all. Thankfully, Squidward had an idea.

He tapped his right buttcheek. "SpongeBob, I have an idea that just might work, but first I need to establish something."

The boy turned his head to look at Squidward's stern face. "Alright."

"One, I hate you. Let's get that straight. I'm only doing this so I don't have to hear your groans of agony anymore. Got it?"

"Aw, you're so sweet, Squiddy."

He smacked him hard across both cheeks. The impact made a nice _slap!_ "No, I am not! I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for me." ... "SpongeBob! Sponge- Are you listening?" He smacked him once more.

Oh, wow. Was this really happening? SpongeBob guessed it was as he chewed his lip and tried to get lost in the sensations he was receiving from Squidward's abuse on his ass. This was a thing of fantasies. Keeping his mouth shut, he silently wished for Squidward to do it again.

Squidward caught on quickly. "Are you getting off to this?!" He crossed his arms. "You're sick!”

"Uh!” SpongeBob snapped out of his trance, slurping the bit of drool that had formed at the corner of his lip. He grabbed his behind, spreading himself for Squidward, a desperate look plastered on his seemingly innocent face. "Aw, Squidward, c'mon,” he whined, twerking himself a bit. “Can you _please_ get the formula out of my system?"

"Yeah, if you listen to my Nep-damn idea!"

"Okay, I'm listening."

"I'm going to slide one of my tentacles into your anus to loosen it. It might hurt a bit."

The mere thought of it made SpongeBob shiver. He nodded silently and made the decision to get on all fours in case any pain should cause him to stumble over. There he was, in the back of the kitchen, his butt aimed upwards, his coworker looming down on him. He braced himself for what he had only ever dreamt about. _I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m—_

“Shit!” He slapped a hand over his mouth, blushing. “S-sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Annoyed, Squidward removed the tentacle (his right hand one). “I gave you a warning, idiot.”

“Sorry,” he said again. He could feel the sticky appendage slide back into him more slowly, twisting and turning to loosen him. He’d only ever had fingers in there before, so the foreign tentacle felt new and uncomfortable. On top of that, his rectum was still full with poop, so the further Squidward pushed, the more he felt the urge to relieve himself. Immediately, he body clenched and strained to push out unfamiliar intruder.

“SpongeBob, you need to relax. Your anus is a muscle; if you tense up, so will it.”

“Wow,” he beamed, “you sure know a lot about butts, Squidward.”

“Gah- I- W-well, they taught it in health class. F-for the gays. Of whom I was not one of.”

“Hmm... People change, Squid. I mean, look at you now, your tentacle up another man’s butt. I dunno about you, but that seems pretty gay to me. _Buuuut_... I could be wrong.”

Now that Squidward thought about it, yeah, that was pretty gay. Like, the gayest thing he’d ever done. And on top of that, done _willingly_. He second-guessed that thought the moment he felt a goopy warmth around his tentacle, however. “SpongeBob, are you shitting me?!” (Punny choice of words totally intended.) “Are y-you... shitting... _on_ me?”

Sure enough, the little guy was having a bowel movement. Brown spilled out from the gaps where Squidward’s body met SpongeBob’s. It overflowed, trickled down his arm, dripped to the floor in a gush. Disgusting, pure disgusting.

**THIS NEXT PART WILL BE UPDATED SOON:**

The next few minutes consisted of crying and tentacles. Squidward managed to fit two tentacles into SpongeBob's anus before the boy demanded that he stop. His virgin asshole was virgin no longer, but there was one problem. Squidward's slippery tentacles were a bit stuck.

The octopus pulled, and SpongeBob pushed against him. They rocked back and forth, Squidward unaware of what the sponge was doing. When the sponge began to moan, only then did he realize. "More, Squiddy," was getting louder and louder until a deep sigh was heard, and SpongeBob's anus tightened around the tentacles within.

"Agh, SpongeBob!" he squealed, watching as the pores on his body began contracting profusely. A sticky, clear substance dribbled down from each crevice. Squidward gagged. "Did you seriously just—?"

Seconds later, a clatter was heard on the floor. SpongeBob looked down to see what he had birthed. It was the formula, all covered in yuck, but safe and sound at last.

The musical shuffling of little crab legs could be heard scurrying towards the kitchen. It was Mr. Krabs. The boss looked at the scene before him, his face completely blank. "What the hell?" was written all over his dumbfounded expression. His jaw quivered, and all he could manage was a weak, "Wipe yer ass, wash yer hands, and get yer shit together..."

No pun intended.


	3. Urine Trouble (pee)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted as a chapter in a collection of oneshots of mine on Fanfiction.net. I suppose by me telling you that, it wouldn’t be hard for you to find out which user I am, but fuck privacy I guess. I write dirty fics and I’m proud! :)

SpongeBob grasped the hem of his trousers, tugging them down over his crossed knees in a hurry. His cheeks were rosy red, his teeth chewing at his lip frantically.

"C'mon, pants!"

He wrestled with the restricting garment, which blessed him in that it protected him from being deemed publicly nude, yet cursed him in that it made it difficult to relieve himself.

"... _Grr_! ... _Agh_!"

His belt tightened around his waist, squeezing his painfully taut abdomen. He gasped, feeling a trickle of urine drip onto his briefs.

"Gary, can you help me with these Nep[tune]-damned pants before I piss myself?"

A meow of affirmation followed.

The snail made his way into the bathroom where he saw SpongeBob struggling before his eyes. The sponge's face was twisted into an irritated frown, his hands fumbling with his belt as he cursed heavily under his breath.

"Oh, for Nep's sake, Gary! Quit staring, and help me out already," he snapped.

Gary slid up his owner's leg, until he reached the pants. He tugged furiously at the belt loops, ripping one, but nevertheless aiding SpongeBob is the midst of his desperation. The snag was big enough so that SpongeBob could slide a finger through the loops and pull out the belt.

"Freedom!" SpongeBob said, eyes wide and smile wider. With a swift yank, his pants kissed the floor, and the sponge was prepared to lift the toilet lid. Up went the lid and down went the briefs, slightly damp from the involuntary tinkle the pressure on his bladder had caused. He wrapped his hands around his genitals, aiming them towards the desired target.

"Thanks, Gare Bear, and sorry about the harsh language earlier. I was just a little upset, is all."

Gary replied with an accepting _meow_.

A stream of yellow (darker than SpongeBob's exterior) emitted from the creature's body. He stood at his toilet, his eyes rolling back into his head as his bladder felt the much needed relief it craved.

_Drip, drip, drip..._

He pulled up his square bottoms, closed the lid, and flushed. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned to wash his hands.

"Well, for the rest of the day, I'll try not to be too _pissy_ , Gary." He laughed proudly at his distasteful sense of humor.

Gary rolled his eyes. " _Meow, m-meow._ "

" _Urine_ trouble, mister, if you don't show some respect for my jokes."

_SpongeBob's bubbly laughter ensued._


End file.
